


It wasn't supposed to be this way

by outofcontextmenno



Series: Out in the Leaves [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU - Freeform, Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Gen, Team Ro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 17:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20764208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofcontextmenno/pseuds/outofcontextmenno
Summary: Itachi wasn’t sure if it was dumb luck or skill that when he missed the branch he was aiming for he was able to snag another on the way down without too much stumble in his step. No one even noticed. He caught a flash of white in his peripherals before it moved on ahead of him- well, almost no one.No more mistakes.





	It wasn't supposed to be this way

Itachi wasn’t sure if it was dumb luck or skill that when he missed the branch he was aiming for he was able to snag another on the way down without too much stumble in his step. No one even noticed. He caught a flash of white in his peripherals before it moved on ahead of him- well, almost no one.

No more mistakes. 

He channeled extra chakra through his legs and collected it in the soles of his feet, just to make sure this time, and leapt again. His legs were starting to shake. Adrenaline withdrawal. Probably. He wasn’t in immediate danger anymore, and now his body had decided it wanted to stop. 

But with the forms of his two teammates rapidly disappearing in front of him, Itachi couldn’t afford to rest. He wasn’t on an ordinary mission - this was ANBU - and he would keep up. He had to. All he had to do was focus. One step then the next. From that branch to the other. His body took to the repetitive pattern, remembering the training. This was something he could do - something he was good at. 

Or, it was until a weak branch snapped beneath his feet and Itachi entirely forgot he was a shinobi. He flailed, missed a branch and bounced off a second, before barely latching onto a third and hauling himself up. He crouched on the branch, trying to control his breathing through the white bone of his mask. His breath was loud against the inside, but his lungs were fighting him. The eye holes of his mask seemed smaller, and he was halfway to ripping mask off his face before he realized what he was doing. Itachi forced his hands away and leaned heavily on them. A branch jabbed him in the side. It hurt. He hurt. Everything hurt. Even his chakra coils felt like they hurt. 

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

He was better than this. He had to be better than this. There was so much riding on him proving himself in the ranks of such a respected position that he couldn’t afford anything less than perfection. He couldn’t simply go back to the compound and face his clan’s disappointment or stir up further resentment toward the village.

He was the bridge. If bridges failed everyone drowned, and he couldn’t - wouldn’t - do that to his clan.  
His branch dipped silently. A hound mask leaned close to Itachi’s face as his captain settled down on the branch a calculated distance away from him, within Itachi’s reach, but far enough away that one could easily avoid injury from a panicking teammate. 

Itachi couldn’t even hide his flinch and looked away, trying to ignore the hitch in his throat and the slight blurriness in his eyes. Now his captain didn’t even trust him to control himself. His first mission in and Itachi already proved he couldn’t keep up with the best Konoha had to offer. In Team Ro with two geniuses and the mokuton there was no place for a weak link. Yet here he was. 

Itachi felt rather than saw his captain’s eyes studying him carefully as he worked to control himself.  
Silence stretched out between them with only Itachi’s ragged breathing breaking it. His captain seemed uninclined to make the first move, so Itachi figured he might as well do it - maybe salvage a shred of dignity. If only he could breath. 

Finally, “Hound-taicho,” he gasped out.

There was a long, slow nod of the head.

Silence fell again. Itachi’s body conveniently chose that moment to start a faint tremor in his arms which were still supporting him, and he looked down in startled dismay. His hands have never shaken before. He curled his hands into fists, ignored the red caught under his nails, and looked away from his captain’s calm assessment.

Itachi can picture his mother - framed in sunlight doggedly shining through the window - lean down and smooth a wrinkle in his shirt.

“ANBU is an honor,” she said even though her eyes seemed to disagree. “It won’t be any different than missions you have already gone on.” She turned away from him and read again his invitation to join. “I’m proud of you.”

Itachi’s breath rattled against his mask and something that must be failure curled up low in his stomach and settled there like an ache after a punch in the gut.  
The branch dipped again, more severely this time though none of the leaves stirred, as Cat landed primly to the right of Hound. 

“No signs of pursuers, but it’s still several miles to the border. We can’t stop for long,” he said, his hand splayed against the trunk of the tree.  
Hound nodded again and made a short aborted motion toward Itachi before settling for leaning closer on the balls of his feet. 

“Can you keep moving?” He asked, low and to the point. 

“Yes, taicho,” Itachi said, squeezing his eyes closed before willing his body to relax, his heart to stop battering against his ribs. He inhaled sharply through his nose and held it - focusing on his body. He distantly felt the branch sway under him as Cat leaped off to scout ahead or pick their path. 

Exhale. Inhale. Itachi forced still trembling legs to bend. Exhale. Time to go home. Away from the now empty house behind him and towards one where his baby brother waited. He took all of a step before pitching forward on still weak legs. 

A lean back caught him before he went much farther, and hands slid under his knees and hauled him up.  
Itachi found himself clinging to the back of Hatake Kakashi.

He should struggle and push himself off - anything to avoid this. Shisui used to carry him when Itachi was too tired to walk back to the compound, but they haven’t done that for years, and even then, Shisui was family. Hatake wore a stolen Sharingan and looked at him out of Itachi’s cousin’s eye - he was as far from family as possible. 

“Rest,” his captain said shifting Itachi’s weight until he was fixed more securely on the man’s back before he followed Cat off into the trees. A languid grace and effortless economy of motion followed as he moved from tree to tree. “Just rest. I’ll get us home.”

Cat gave a sideways glance as Itachi and his commanding officer caught back up to him. Itachi curled his fingers more securely around the hard edges of Hatake’s ANBU armour and sighed, a deep bone rattling sign which almost seemed to shake the breath out of him. This man wasn’t Shisui - Itachi couldn’t be weak in front of him but… 

He closed his eyes and carefully, hesitantly, lowered his head until his forehead leaned against his captain’s shoulder and let himself feel tired. 

Just this once.


End file.
